Oblivion
by Uurrusistabul
Summary: An alternate ending to the series. A longer one at that. There's more angst, more abuse, more blood, more swears, and a lot of sex. How will the Burners stand up against an army when Motorcity shatters around them?
1. Oblivion

Mike Chilton, arms tied behind his back, knelt before the three biggest assholes he knew. Kane, standing as if he were an army commander, towered over him, a snide grin on his face. The Duke sat, not too far from Kane, in one of Kane's many pristine swivel chairs; his cane soiled with what Mike knew was his blood. Red, the ever mysterious bastard, had decided to reveal his face; the scarred, eyepatched red head had a firm grip on Mike's hair, crouched to his side, yet still in his peripheral vision.

Kane did a slow circle around Chilton, as a wolf might to its prey; Red smirking up at him with a sickening gleam in his eye. Mike felt bile rise to his throat, disgusted with the level of betrayal to the people Red was trying to avenge by 'ending' Mike. "So, what, Duke? The name's just a title? Don't care that Kane is probably going to double cross-" Red administered a swift slap upside Mike's face, making the olive skinned man hiss in pain. Kane smirked and the Duke scoffed. "Mike, baby, this is a neutral territory I walk," The Duke pushed his chair across the room, halting just in front of Mike. The Duke traced his can under Mike's chin and tapped him playfully on where Red had just slapped. Blood ran down the side of Mike's face was smeared further along his jaw line.

Mike shivered at the way that the Duke leered at his crimson wounds, looking almost hungry in his examination. The burner felt a foot push against the base of his spine and press down slowly, evenly; the pressure moved forward, forcing Mike into a bow. Any resistance would earn increased pressure. Mike growled in anger. Duke pulled his cane back, rolling towards Kane's desk and setting the obscenely decorative accessory on the minimalist surface. He arose this time, returning to the bloodied burner, removing his glasses and tucking them into his jacket.

Red gripped Mike's hair ever tighter, yanking back ever harder, dragging Mike's head so far that his eyes watered. Kane slid his foot down Mike's spine with a firm command. "Stay." Mike obliged; what choice did he have? Red looked up at Kane, eyes alight with sick glee. "Can we start slicing him up?" Mike forced a lump in his throat down at the nauseating glee in Red's tone. Kane chuckled and Mike could just make out a large hand tracing Red's jaw line. "Patience, kid, patience."

Red looked away from his employer, a pout on his face. The Duke laughed. "You train your pets to love you, Kane, babe." Red snarled. "I'm _not_ his pet." Mike forced a snort, a futile attempt to maintain his cockiness. Red only slammed his face into the ground with a feral growl. Kane said nothing, simply glaring at Red in disapproval. "Duke, since you are a guest in my city," Kane began, sliding towards the Duke, who nonchalantly turned his head to the larger man, "I'd expect you to treat my property with respect." Red said nothing, but he did clench his jaw I annoyance.

The Duke cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. The overdressed man, to Mike's horror, slid his hand down Kane's chest. He got real close to Kane's ear and whispered something softly, so soft that neither Red or Mike could hear. Red bristled, forcing Mike to kneel upright. "Are we going to do this or what?" he snapped, flicking open his switchblade. Mike stared at the gleaming weapon in wavering confidence, eyes flickering to the Duke and Kane, who remained intimately close. "Yes, yes, cool your jets, Cherry," the Duke teased, slipping away from Kane and bringning his gator to Mike's stomach with a swift kick.

Taken aback, Mike spluttered, swearing under his breath. Kane chuckled once more, replacing Red's hand on his head. "Remember the good ol' days when you listened to Daddy and he rewarded you for your obedience?" he muttered huskily, drawing heat to Mike's cheeks. The Duke threw his head back in laughter. "Chilton was your bitch, huh?" The Duke glowered at Mike, all the laughter gone. "It suits him, I suppose; to be a dog at his master's feet." Mike bore his teeth in anger, only to have Red hold his blade to his mouth, forcing him to open as he near crushed his jaw in his black gloved hand. Mike didn't remove his attention from the blade and Red purred in delight from the cold blooded fear in his eyes.

Kane agreed with Duke, kneeling in front of Mike, who dared to let his eyes flicker to Kane. Kane, who traced his hands down Mike's throat and settled on the base of his collar bone. He knelt in, careful of the blade. "I could kill you so easily, Michael. I could crush your throat and watch as you gasped for air and drowned in your own blood." Mike wasn't sure where to look, but he noticed that the Duke had disappeared behind him. Panic swept through him and he began to heave.

Kane tightened his grip ever so slightly. "I won't though." Mike stared at the man who set out to make every day a living hell for him. Kane glowered and Red snickered, grazing Mike carefully with his blade. "I'd much rather see you drown on my cock, Chilton."

Before air could so much as escape his lungs, Mike was thrust forward, the knife slicing a thin cut on the edge of his mouth. Knees spread and clamped to stay that way by God knows what, Mike felt the Duke peel off his pants. Terror stricken, mouth filled with blood, nose dripping with his essence, Mike could only jerk as the Duke slammed a gloved hand on his ass. Red and Kane held Mike down by his shoulders, Red making sure to press hard enough to strain Mike's bones.

"Stop it you sick fucks! STOP IT!" Mike was rewarded for his outbursts with more smacks to his exposed ass, the stinging sensation only amplified by the Duke's gloves. Kane and Red, both with one knee on each of Mike's shoulder blades, closed the distance between them with an angry, needy clash of teeth. Mike whimpered, fucking _whimpered_, as he felt his ass begin to raw with the Duke's merciless slaps. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say, nothing left to _be said_; Mike could see Red palming himself through his black suit, erection prominent. Mike gagged at the keens and whimpers of pleasure Red elicited and nearly sobbed when he recalled times when he was in Red's position. When he begged in such shameless, wordless sounds.

"Fuck, Kane, that's hot as shit," Duke chimed in, no longer spanking Mike. Instead, Mike felt the Duke lean forward, over his body, shifting his gloved hand to encase the back of Mike's neck. Mike choked back sobs as fingernails dug between his muscles, breaking his skin, and the eerily familiar sensation of a clothed cock grinding against his ass. "Please…" The plea escaped his mouth without his consent and Kane only tutted him like a child, breaking away from a now irritated Red. For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Mike's head was forced to look up at an impossible angle, causing the Duke's nails to dig further into his skin.

Kane traced the skin under Mike's eye in an almost tender way, though Kane's faux compassion was not bought into. Mike was trembling, he noted, and his eyes were pleading,_begging_ to be let go. Oh, but Kane saw it such a different way. No, that was a face that was begging to be _fucked_. The Duke leaned towards Kane, as if to invite him to a kiss, but the larger man refused. "Please, you are my guest, make yourself comfortable with my darling Red."

Red growled, and yet… Mike could see the clash of dominance between the two even as Kane unzipped his Kaneco approved pants. "Kane, come on, this isn't-" Mike began to rasp, only to have the Duke's grip tighten. The flamboyant man ripped away from Red, who was lapping at Duke's neck now, all preface hatred forgotten; and snarled in anger. "Shut it Chilton," he snapped, earning a scream of agony from Mike as his nails began to swim in blood. "You've stalled long enough, Kane, hurry this up." The Duke was having another one of his bouts of rage, probably brought on by his clothed erection that demanded attention _now._

Kane glared at Duke, but allowed it. He himself was becoming impatient. Kane looked back down at Chilton, whose face and neck were coated with drying blood, and smiled in such a bittersweet way it made Mike's stomach reel. Kane pried open Mike's mouth, gripping him tight and raising his gaze. Stony eyes, cold eyes, stared back into Mike's bruised ones. "If I feel you even _thinking_ about using your teeth, Chilton, I will have you fucked by my entire_army_. Do I make myself clear?" Mike mustered a glare and allowed Kane's cock to ease into his mouth, the cut Red made on his lip stinging as the skin was stretched. Kane sighed in relief. "Isn't that a good boy?"

Red was panting above Mike, and the Burner could feel the once vigilante grind shamelessly against his jacket. The Duke was as kind as to work himself in his own hand, rather than against Mike's person. Chilton choked as Kane pushed into him mercilessly, pressing his cock as deep as he could into Mike's mouth, blood leaving a trail of red in its quake. Mike trembled as he felt Red, out of nowhere, cut through his jacket and slice the skin of his forearm. He screamed into Kane's cock, careful, so careful, as to not bite down. Kane moaned in pleasure, a rumbling sound that shook Mike to his very core. He would never forget that sound. Not ever.

The Duke, for the second time, tore from Red. Removing his hand from Mike's neck, he positioned himself readily behind Mike. "May I?" The Duke purred as his cock came within a hair's breath of Mike's entrance. Mike looked up at Kane, desperately. Maybe he'd be selfish and refuse Duke this "pleasure". Maybe Mike would simply be made to suck Kane off whilst the others watch. A child's wish.

Kane pulled out of Mike reluctantly, strings of saliva and precum following. Red instantaneously moved in, but Kane pushed back. "Lie him on his back," he ordered. The Duke did as he was told, as soon as Red removed himself from Mike, the Duke flipped Chilton over unceremoniously. For the first time, Mike could see what was keeping his legs apart. It was a black bar, clamped to his legs with non flexible cuffs. His pants were brought down to just above the cuffs, his cock lying limply on his stomach. Kane noticed his lack of excitement and snapped Red to it. The hired help whined in protest; a protest in which Kane returned with a firm slap. "Do what daddy says," he snapped. Red shrank back and reluctantly grabbed Mike's cock in his gloved hand, sneering at Chilton. "St-stop!" Mike choked as his cock was forced to stand haphazardly at attention.

Red only made a face of spite, working Chilton faster, working his cock better than anyone Mike knew. Mike threw his head back and made a garbled scream, which was soon drowned out by a pleasured moan. Kane and Duke watched, smiled on their faces, as Red brought Mike higher and higher to his peak, the gasping man begging for it to stop. Kane nodded the Duke to between Mike's legs; a suggestion that the Duke happily took. Kane slid around Mike, kneeling on his chest, cock still out, and blocking his view. "Red, I want you on Mike's cock. _Now._" Red made an undignified noise of discontent, but followed Kane's command. The hired mercenary pulled out a vile of lube he'd been saving for a moment like this, despite thinking he'd be using it to fuck _Mike_ in the ass. A win was a win, nevertheless.

It all happened so fast, too fast, and not fast enough. Red slid down on Mike, who gasped and cried out just wide enough for Kane to slide into his mouth. Meanwhile, the Duke had slicked his own cock and began his decent into Mike's ass, feeling the muscles clench so tightly that it was borderline painful. Mike screamed into Kane, begs and pleas unheard through Kane's member in his mouth. Red, facing the Duke, moaned brokenly as he fucked himself onto Mike's cock, trying to graze his prostate with the slightly withering dick inside of him. "Give him the stuff," Red whined like a child deprived of candy as Duke pounded into Mike at an uncontained rate.

Kane grunted, pulling out what looked like powdered candy. Kane slid his cock out of Mike's mouth, holding the man's bleeding nose roughly as he forced Mike to consume the powder aphrodisiac through his screams of pain and broken gasps. And again his cock passed Mike's bruised lips. The world went hazy, the sensations he felt amplified, pain searing like a cattle prod, and the pleasure. The hidden, forbidden pleasure that tickled the very tip of the knife blade; it, too, was amplified.

Mike screamed incoherently, bucking his hips violently into Red and against the Duke. There was no hesitation, no recompense, only that beautiful, beautiful ecstasy that teased him. He hardly noticed when Red spun around, facing Kane. Mike felt nothing, and yet everything, when Red shoved Mike' shirt upwards, cut ever so carefully into Mike's abdomen, sliding his still clothed fingers into his chest, and began to trace his wounds with his tongue. He only felt that blissful pain and the God sent detachment from everything. And when mirthful laughter and muscles around him clenched, he felt peace. On the floor, bloodied, soiled, and drugged, Mike Chilton found peace.


	2. Revival

Where was he? Who was he? The haze of pain and exhaustion veiled what was going on. There were screens flashing with images that he couldn't make out; he couldn't understand what was going on, but could hear something piercing from the speakers, though he did not understand. He attempted to move, but the red chains bound him and his abdomen screamed. He looked down to see a poorly wrapped blotch of red. Red...

Jolting from the oncoming memories, Mike recalled his attack, his defilement, and his rape. And then everything came into view. Mike could clearly hear the screams and pleas of the Motorcitizens on screen as they fled left and right. He watched in horror as children were trampled and the city lit afire. "Glad to see you awake, Chilton."

Mike jerked his neck painfully, meeting the scornful sneer of on of his attackers: Red. Mike managed a cocky grin. "How ya doin' Cherry?" Red snarled in anger, which only made Mike's lips curl up higher. "So you're Kane's bitch now, huh?" Mike glared evenly into Red's good eye, a contrast to the grin on his face. Red snorted. "And you aren't?"

Red let the back of his hand make contact with Mike's jaw. Mike spat, the cut on his lip reopening. "Not by choice," he snapped. Red only jibed, smacking him around again, making sure to every bruise already present. Mike took it silently; his begging would get him nowhere, this he already knew. Red noted his defiance and struck him with more ferocity before delivering a swift kick to the Burner's wounded abdomen, making the olive skinned man double over and gasp.

Red snarled once more, making his way to the exit. Just before he left, he stopped and cocked his head towards Mike, who met his good eye boldly. "Those recordings are weeks old, by the way. Motorcity is dead." Mike could almost hear a certain aching sadness to Red's words, but dismissed them. He would sooner believe his city's destruction than Red's conscience. Mike tugged lightly, in curiosity, on his binds; Mike shut his eyes and attempted to drown out the replaying screams that echoed throughout the prison cell.

Dutch skid down the alleyway, Kanebots hot on his trail. Switching his comm. on, he desperately tried for Clair. She appeared before him like salvation. "Take the third tunnel on the left and you'll be out of tracking range!" There was no time nor need to explain. Not anymore. Nobody made luxury calls, only urgent ones. Dutch complied, tearing up the wired fence with calloused fingers, shoes digging for support in the small holes. The Kanebots whirred around the corner, firing madly at him. Dutch let out an undignified scream before falling to the unforgiving concrete on the other side of the fence.

Scrambling, tripping, gasping: run. The third tunnel on the right, leading to the sewers, came into view. Salvation. For now. Dutch bolted for it, catching sight of a familiar black jumpsuit decorated with blazing red flames, as he was enveloped by the tunnel's darkness. "Texas, close the gate!" Chuck yelped from the depths of the pit. Dutch felt heat build and fly passed his left shoulder, making contact with the tunnel wall and setting the blackness ablaze with red fire.

The sounds of electricity whizzed by and Dutch dove for it as the electric field went up, just behind Dutch. The Kanebots weren't as lucky, and they fried like flies against a bug zapper. On his hands an knees, panting for air, Dutch trembled in relief. "C'mon Dutch, my man; Foxy and her Amelias are here." Dutch was dragged by his wrist further into the tunnel.

"It's Amazons, stupid," Foxy corrected as Dutch and Texas entered the gathering of capable Motorcitizens. Foxy leaned against her car, Otrera, looking cockily at Texas as the Burner looked ready to throw a tantrum. Kaia, from her isolated corner, snorted; the remainder of her people, twelve in all, crowded around her, removed from the rest of the gathering. The Terra village was the first to fall.

"Did you get the drive?" Chuck chirped, scrambling past the Mamma's Boys in terror to reach Dutch, holding out his hands expectantly. Dutch gave him a firm nod and managed a smile, tossing the small drive to the blonde, who giddily clasped it. "Alright, man, we're one step closer to bringing down Kane!" Cheers from around the room and a collection of appreciative grunts from the Terra brought Chuck to a spluttering mess. "A-ahaha! Y-yeah!"

Dutch rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We still gotta get Mike back to manage any of this." The room went quiet and Chuck bit his lower lip. Dutch sighed. Texas nudged Dutch. "Way to ruin the moment, Sally." Dutch pushed the larger man off. "We can't pretend that Mike's not in captivity. It's been five days. We need to get this plan in motion. Now."

Kaia sniffed. "And how do you propose we do that?" Kaia's lackeys nodded in agreement raising questioning glances from the Amazons and demands of explanation from the Mamma's Boys. Chuck spluttered and Dutch groaned. Kaia slid from the shadows, standing in front of her group and into the situation limelight. "We've helped you with little question, and in return you've supplied us with haven. Now is the time to inquire. What are you planning, Burners?"


	3. Attempt

Why was everything so difficult? Julie grit her teeth as she flew down Kaneco's main tower halls, heading towards her father's office. This was it, this was the time to tell her father everything. She could do it, she knew she could; but as the doors approached her confidence dissolved and she stood, five feet away from it's entrance, trembling.

How could Julie break her father's heart? Julie internally screamed in fury, but her outward appearance was that of mild frustration. 'Never let the damage show.' Turning on her heel, Julie strode towards the control room hall. There was no time for petty drama and childish emotions. No, Julie had to located Mike as quickly as possible. She was not allowed to dwell on her feelings, on her dilemma How could she? When thousands more were in peril. How?

Another night snuck up on Julie and she felt her body convulse with dry sobs. Day six of Mike's captivity and she'd gotten nowhere. Julie glanced at her communicator. The guys had been calling constantly. Pleas for help she hadn't time for. Julie had already instructed Clair to take their calls, to act as her eyes and ears of Motorcity. Julie groaned, sliding down the panel and onto the chilled, pristine ground. It felt like bone now. The red and green display contrasted with the blackness around her and she allowed herself a moment of even breathing, squeezing the bridge of her nose. Where was Kane hiding Mike?

More importantly, how was she going to save him? How was she going to save Motorcity from her father? How was she going to save Kane from himself?

Who was going to save her?

A swift kick to the stomach, and Mike was bleeding again. He flashed Red an edgy smile, swiping his foot under the man's feet; his grin grew wider when Red hit the floor. Red sneered, flipping on the shackles' electric feed and sending Mike arching backwards in agony, unable to manage even a scream of pain before he fell limp in his binds. Red was always a sore loser.

Red walked forward, just before the heaving Mike. "Look at me when I'm punishing you, Chilton." Mike made no move to look up. Red shrieked at the defiance, activating the electric charge and sending Mike into another arch. Red admired the contour of his spine as Mike flexed inwards and slumped into his submissive kneel. "I said look at me!" Red roared, grabbing Mike by the hair and yanking up. Mike, eyes glazed in detachment, stared deftly into Red's mask. Red howled in anger once more, ripping off his helm and bringing his face to Mike's, a hair's breath from the Burner's skin. "LOOK AT ME!" It was hardly sounding like a command anymore, it had eased into a plea; a desperate cry for power.

The Burner's leader did nothing; he could do nothing. Red threw him away, straightening up abruptly. With deft fingers, Red unzipped his suit. "You're going to learn obedience, Chilton," Red hissed, swiping his thumb over his cock. Mike said nothing, he only looked with those dead eyes, full of neither hatred nor fear; only emptiness. Red bit his bottom lip, grabbing the back of Mike's hair, which was matted with the Burner's blood. "Open," Red hissed, prodding Mike's lips with his member.

Mike's eyes flickered, for a moment, with hatred, before he bore his teeth in defiance. Red growled at Mike's resistance, grabbing the olive skinned man's jaw. "Open, now!" he shouted, squeezing almost hard enough to break the Burner's jaw. Mike reluctantly opened his mouth, his jaw screaming from the crushing hand around it. Red made no move to press in. "Tell me, Chilton, have you been watching the television closely? See anybody you know?" The hatred that bubbled into Mike made Red shiver in delight, pumping faster.

"Those Burners of yours are probably long gone by now. Either they bailed or they..." Red snickered. "You know." Mike's eyes widened then narrowed in rage, and he attempted to attack before Red's grip became impossibly tight. "I wouldn't if I were you," Red snapped tersely "Those binds can go up a higher voltage." Mike glared, weighing his option and snorting. As if he had options.

Chilton watched as Red pumped his cock in front of him, with no sense of humility, humming and purring as he twitched in his hand. Mike knew what was coming, what was going to happen, but there was no avoiding it. Not without earning three broken ribs and another slice in the chest. Red moved his hand from Mike's chin to his hair, tearing his head back so far he nearly broke it. Mike was forced to look dead into Red's good eye, which burned with something Mike had never seen before. The red head sneered. "You're nothing but a forgotten hero of Motorcity. You try so hard to make up for all this shit you did while under Kane but in the end-" A sharp gasp and a choked groan escaped Red's lips as he released himself onto Chilton's face, grinning at his handiwork as he shook in its aftermath.

Flinching, Mike snarled up at Red like a feral animal, his swollen eye burning as he felt Red's seed seeping into his open cut. Red laughed. "In the end, you're just a dog." Red through down Mike's head, tucking his member back into his pants. He then knelt down, cocking his head to the side and smiling as Mike dared to look up. Red, for a moment, had a look of pity on his face, before sliding his hand across Mike's soiled cheek and pushing his fluids downwards, towards Mike's mouth. Red traced the cut he made from his session with the Duke and Kane and chanced a frown.

Confused by the seemingly tender moment and Red's concentrated expression, Mike yanked his head away from Red as if touched by fire. Red scoffed. "Dog." Another kick, as sudden as anything Red did, came down upon Mike, sending him into unconsciousness once more. Red watched the man breathe shallowly, hanging loosely in his binds, as he reached for his fallen helm. "I hate you..." Red mumbled, half-hazardously, before leaving Chilton to kneel.

Kane watched from his office with an amused look on his face, watching Red exit the containment cell. Red was getting unstable, he could tell. Kane swiveled around, looking out his window to gaze upon his city. Perhaps he should toss the reckless lad away? He had Chilton, there was no use in Red anymore. Kane frowned. What to do with a dog long past its prime. He laughed softly to himself, rising from his chair. The Genesis Cube would be ready for initiation soon and soon he'd have all of Motorcity on their knees. All that was left to do was take a certain unruly mutt out back. But which one to choose?


	4. Confrontation

Really conflicted. To RayDuke or not to RayDuke. That is the question. Rayon's a type of fabric, so I named his two main body guards after really strong fabric. Probably gonna have some deeper backstory for Rayon and Duke later. A pretty SFW chapter, there's some swearing. How much do you have to love someone to deal with their bullshit? Especially when it's the Duke. (Also I gave him a real name. Rayon will stay Rayon because it seems like a legit name.) I also have a headcanon that Rayon is really beloved by his staff and they all pretty much love him. Kinda like the Duke's staff but without the fear part. Mostly due to Rayon being so unbelievably hot charismatic.

If you're looking for the other chapters, just go to my hotty and look under my literature tag otherwise known as "/tagged/jam-writes". I was going to get a proof read by Cal but I'm impatient. It'll get porny again I swear just….bear with me here.

* * *

Rayon sat in the Duke's large gala eyeing him from behind his shades. The Duke was tracing his finger down a crease in Mutt's frame, refusing to make eye contact with Rayon; the sounds of the outside Motorcity being destroy could be heard clearly in the eerie silence the two held. Rayon's right hand men, Mohair and Ramie, stood threateningly around their leader, expecting Kane to burst through the Duke's walls and take Rayon hostage. No, they wouldn't have any of that; the pair kept a tight formation and Rayon noticed and smiled, his boys always had his back.

The Duke tilted his head downwards, shifting his sunglasses out of the way so that Rayon could see his eyes. "You think I'm a monster," he stated. There was no dramatic tone, no sarcasm; what the Duke said he said like a fact. And it was a fact. Rayon glowered, eyes smoldering behind his shades, yet he remained composed. "Now why," Rayon shifted his legs and Ramie shifted his footing, as if expecting to attack, "would I think that?"

The diva's gaze faltered guiltily and he ground his teeth. Sliding off of Mutt, he swaggered to his throne and plopped down, looking like a spoiled prince. The Duke tapped his fingers on his golden throne and snarled when Rayon did not continue speaking. "Aren't you going to say something, Ray?" he snapped, sneering at the dark man in the darker suit. Rayon shrugged in response, uncaring. The Duke ground his teeth louder. "Go on, babe, tell me everything you usually do. Come on and tell me how what I did was wrong or how Mike has been there for me and 'my city'. Use that fake smooth voice you always use to make me feel like an ass. Go, on! Get it out!"

Mohair and Ramie glanced at their beloved leader, who said nothing. He only shrugged. The Duke's nostrils flared as his face reddened. "Get out!" he snarled, throwing his nearest cane into one of his beloved car's window shield Mohair stepped in front of his leader immediately, expression that of anger, while Ramie immediately drew out his gun; but Rayon held up a hand for them to stand down. "You invited us here, Duke," Rayon said evenly, his baritone voice vibrating off the metal of the room. The Duke's tempered had another flare and he began gripping his throne's armrests, trying to hold back another violent outburst before one of Rayon's lackeys shot him in the chest.

"And now I'm asking you to leave," the Duke snapped, getting himself riled up. His breathing was become eradicate and his body was shaking in unattended rage. Rayon's left brow lifted comically and he arose, waving off his guards as he approached the Duke's thrown, hands in pockets. The Duke watched Rayon carefully, eyes ablaze with reproach. Rayon scoffed. "Look at you, Derek," Rayon growled, gesturing towards the Duke's cars lazily, eyes never quite leaving the Duke's. "You've got everything Kane promised you. Everything you wanted."

Rayon let his shades fall down his nose slightly and his eyes blazed into the Duke's. "Hell, you even have Mutt." The Duke's face darkened further; Rayon didn't call him by his real name unless he was really pissed. Despite being more powerful than the darker man, Rayon always had a way of getting to the Duke. The guy was like his conscience Rayon was closer now, tool close, he was a foot away. How the hell did that happen? The Duke stiffened in his throne, eyes never leaving Rayon.

The head Skylark stopped at the Duke's feet, sensing his so-called ally's tension. "I know what went down after Chilton got captured, Derek." The air turned icy. Rayon had barely whispered that and yet it boomed throughout the Duke's mind and the man immediately rose to his feet, fists clenched. "You don't know anything, Rayon, you're full of shit," the Duke hissed, though it sounded more like a wheeze. Rayon's eyes flashed and darkened. "I know what you did to him, Derek. I may not be one of Kane's fuck toys but I have my connections and-" The Duke backhanded Rayon so fast that the Skylark couldn't dodge.

"I AM NOT LIKE RED OR CHILTON, RAYON," the Duke screamed, glasses falling to the floor and cracking. Before Mohair or Ramie could reach the pair, Rayon rounded on the Duke, kicking the spoiled brat into his throne. The Duke screamed and went for Rayon's neck, but the hotel owner pinned him down first, nails digging into his skin. A collection of the Duke's men entered and began yelling and pushing and shoving at Rayon's men before the Skylark demanded silence. His voice was so deep with rage that the order was followed and the Duke shrank back as Rayon reared on him.

"You're right, Derek, you're nothing like them because they have something you don't and that is determination and self sacrifice." The Duke's jaw clenched harder but he said nothing, only glaring up at Rayon. The taller man's hands clenched tighter around the Duke's neck and he whimpered in pain. "Mike was willing to die for this city, you included, and you turn him over to that fucked up monster you call an associate." The Duke wheezed for the air that did not come to fill his lungs, Rayon's nails were drawing blood and there would be bruises for sure, the Duke could feel them rising to his skin. "You wanna know why you want me to tell you all the things you've done wrong?" Rayon whispered, tearing the Duke's attention back to him. "Because you want to be able to argue with me. You won't tell yourself these things because they're true. And you can lie to me but you can't lie to you."

Rayon threw the Duke back into the throne, letting the two-toned man slump as he gasped for air. Rayon stepped down from the golden platform and snapped his fingers twice, calling Ramie to his right and Mohair to his left. The Duke's men stood, baffled. Whatever had been exchanged between Rayon and their Duke had been whispers and hisses.

The Skylars opened the doors for themselves and Rayon cocked his head. "We refuse your offer of sovereignty " Rayon's voice cut clear through the sounds of Motorcity burning to its foundations. And like that he was gone, the door was closed, and the room was silent. Until the Duke found reality once more. "You fucking idiots! What the hell were you just standing there for?" he boomed, throwing himself from his thrown and down his golden steps. "Sir we were only-" The Duke back handed the driver who had the courage to speak up, sending him swaying on his feet. "Go patrol my junkyards and make sure Kane doesn't scratch my things," the Duke ordered, storming out of his gala.

—

"What do we do about him, sir?" Ramie asked, pushing his sunglasses back to their rightful position among his dirty brown hair. His brows were knitted together, worried for Rayon. His master said nothing, sitting between the two as their driver started the car. Mohair and Ramie met glances and frowned. "Sir," Mohair began only to be silenced by the raise of Mohair's hand. "Enough, we do nothing. The Duke will do nothing to further his power, there is nothing more he wants nor is there anything else that Kane will give. Now not a word about this to the others. Neither of you." The pair nodded, leaning the heads to rest on Rayon's shoulders, their way of comforting him. "Yes, sir."


End file.
